Meminger
by Emily Meminger
Summary: Liesel's POV. A collection of Liesel's memories and thoughts of her first parents and lost little brother Werner. The rarest of feelings don't have colours. It's one of those occasions that have occurred me the most. My story began with a train, some snow and my brother; but before that, were memories from when we were free of sorrow.
1. Chapter 1

**I couldn't find any stories with memories of Liesel's brother of father, so I'm making some of my own. If there is a story with that, let me know the title.**

**I know it says in the book that Liesel has no memory of her father, but here are her thoughts of him.**

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The last memory of my brother was on a train, on the way to Molching. The third carriage where I sat beside my mother was cold. The windows were frosted by the snow that fell slowly and clung to the train, making the windows seem as if they were made of ice.

The carriage was filled with frequent coughing, that hadn't stopped for hours.

My mama was asleep, and I was dreaming. "Guten tag Herr Führer. Wie geht's dir heut?" I hadn't learnt to speak too well, or even to read.

One eye open, one still in a dream...

_Guten Abend, Gute Nacht  
__mit Rosen bedacht,  
mit Näglein-_

Just as the Führer was about to reply, the coughing came to a stop.

The second eye jumped open, and I looked over.

My brother, blank, white, frozen like stone. His blue eyes met the floor. Brown, red. Blood from the nose of a six year old boy. It shot a feeling inside with no colour to describe it.

Es stimmt nicht. Es stimmt nicht. This can't be happening.

The shaking. I shook him as my heart stopped turning hot, getting louder by the second. The next shaking, my mother to wake up. A scream filled the train.

* * *

By the train tracks, the train had gone. My mother held a limp cold body, getting colder and heavier by the second.

He was wrapped in a blanket, ropes in place to hold it tight. He was completely covered, besides his feet in his shoes which had only been bought just last week to wear at his new school.

The two young men laid him in his new bed where he would stay before he was dumped years later.

"Would you like to say a few words?" The priest spoke.

"Gute Nacht, mein liebling." My mother sobbed.

A book dropped, which caught my eye.

I picked it up and took one last look at my brother before the frozen dirt was shovelled on his body.

I turned and left without a word.

That was the last time I'd ever see my brother...

A car came and collected me, and my mother knelt in front of me saying goodbye. I stared straight ahead and didn't say goodbye. I didn't want to say goodbye, and at the time I didn't know that it was my last goodbye to her.

In the car I had one small suitcase and an image of my lost brother. I looked through the window at my mother as the car drove away.

I never saw her again and I never will.

**More to come, tell me what you think and what you'd like to see. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reviewing the last chapter Jessica, now I don't have to tell my agent on you! Haha**

**Thankyou Sunniva, this chapter originally didn't include Rudy, but now it does. It's only a short part, but I will include him more in future chapters. Hope you enjoy! Also I will continue 'For Max who taught me to dream', but I've drawn a blank so it might take me a week or so.**

"What was your Papa like?" Rudy asked me.

* * *

And then that question lead to this, as I never knew myself and still don't.

My mother always told me about father, but each time I'd bring up the topic, the same words were repeated. I have no memory of him, but this is what my mother always told me.

"He always loved you, he didn't want to leave." She would say.

That would always leave me with the question, "Why did he leave?"

Now I have some idea of what happened now, but of course at the time I had no idea as I didn't for many years after. He's been taken away, he's never coming back. It even took longer than the realization that my mama was never coming back; especially since I never really thought of my father hardly ever, there were just times when the question would come up in my head again. "Where are they, what's happened to them?"

Of all the Jews in Germany, only 10% lived through the holocaust. The poor souls were tortured to their death; but as for the communists, it was instant death.

I say that's what happened to my parents. It's not a fact I like to confirm, but it's something to acknowledge.

I feel my life has been very different, as we all are to one another. No one is the same. It's hard to say; different is the only way I can think to describe it briefly.

I never knew my father.

My real, no my _first _mother is dead.

My brother dead.

My real mother dead.

My real father dead.

So much loss, each with their own explanation, but behind the same problem. It was all Hitler's fault. I have many words to describe that evil man, but the nicest way to put it is, "Everyone's favourite dictator!"

"_Your father had to leave. He misses you very much."_

Even my brother was almost as curious as me, but it didn't worry him so much as he never had the thought of having one. _"Not everyone must have fathers Liesel." _He would say to me.

Of course they do, don't they?

All of this went through my mind right up to the point of when my brother and I were actually fleeing for our lives, without us even knowing it. All my thoughts were, "Now Mama's leaving us."

I always thought Mama was coming back for me, I'd dream of it even. I'd write to her in the basement. I even posted the letters, getting me a _Watschen._ I never had the feeling that I was hated by my first parents.

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"I don't know Rudy."

**Jessica, review this or I'll call my agent on your again! Haha I can see your reaction to that right now ;)**

**Please Review everyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Important A/N! **I would just like to say I'm sorry to the family who's 8 year old daughter died at the Royal Adelaide Show on Friday. I was there yesterday and I feel bad that I had fun and then I see the terrible news. Please pray for family, as they are going through a hard time right now. :'(

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**Thoughts in Liesel's head during events are in **_**italics.**_

I thought of what Frau Hermann had said to me earlier.

"Who's Johann?"

"He used to love to read. And he was brave just like you. And this is all him. All in its place."

She took out his picture, "They never found his body. If they could've shown me his body I would've believed them. But how can a mother give up? A mother never gives up on her child."

Those words put thoughts into my mind.

"I have to go." I replied, before leaving the Bürgermeister's house.

"Do you think my mother really loved me?" I asked Max.

"Of course. Every mother loves her child." He replied. "Even Hitler's." He added.

"Do you think, she writes to him?"

He looked at me,  
I looked at him  
He had an idea.

He sat up, "Dear Führer, just writing until your father gets home. Love Mama!"

I sat up and joined in, "Dear Führer, clean up your mess!"

"Dear Führer, who cut your hair?" He said.

"You're not going out in that, are you?"

"What's that growing on your lip?"

"Don't raise your voice at me!" We were both laughing.

"Stop spitting when you yell!"

A voice in my head said, _"If my mother really loves me, where is she?"_

"All they say about communists is true, dirty and stupid!" Rosa raised her voice. I could hear every word she said from the car.

"Shh." Papa insisted.

"I'll speak as loud as I want!" She protested back.

_I don't want her as my Mama, I want my real mother back now._

"Das ende, der Plutocarten!"

"Ja!"

"Das ende, der kommunisten!"

"Ja!"

"Das ende, der Juden!"

"Javahl!"

"Your mother was one wasn't she? A communist?"

"What are you talking about?" Rudy defended.

_So what if she's a communist? Why does he care? Does it matter that she's a communist._

Why does it always feel like I'm alone? In all my live, I've never had the feeling like my mother really loved me no matter how much I was told.

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**What would you like to see next? I'll be updating soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This part has come a little early, but the idea came and I didn't want to lose it.**

**Liesel's POV**

**A new hug is like a tree**

I didn't like the separation, but it was my first time in a car. I would've preferred staying in that car, but I was forced outside where I would have new parents.

I noticed a group of children playing football. A boy was looking at me, and I didn't like it. It felt disappointing to find out the next morning that he was my neighbour.

My new mother seemed cold, that I didn't want much to do with her. It felt as though I was holding a sharp knife, and the smallest tilt made to it would be my life. My father on the other hand seemed warmer, but I still didn't know him.

Oh I wish I could go back. The loss was painful.

I found settling in rather difficult. My mother had found me a new name, 'Saumensch'. I still don't know what it means.

Hans played me a song in the morning. I sat awkwardly at the table, and watched his fingers dance across the keys. I was lost in gaze until Rosa dropped a bowl in front of me.

"From now on you call me Mama, ja?"

I nodded without a word.

"Say it."

The word found its way around my tongue, and I forced it out, although it felt odd. "Mama."

"Gute. Now that Saukerl, that lazy schwein over there. You call him Papa, understood?"

This time I smiled, "Papa." I felt satisfied to have a father again.

He smiled back, with a wink and a twinkle in his silver eyes.

When Papa came around to the school to have me collected early for punishment, I couldn't help but feel guilty for what I'd done, because of the disappointed look papa left me.

I wanted to say the boy was teasing me and had the whole school watching, but I didn't want to cause more trouble for myself.

He led me out side, and he stopped. I finally looked up at his face by question, and so he took a step closer to me and just hugged me. It was the first hug he'd ever regarded me. It's that first hug that feels like getting a hug from a tree. They're all different, with a new frame to adjust to before it becomes familiar to pass by.

The first hug reminds me of a tree because they seem stiff, before it's familiar. They all have bumps and grooves your hands find to remember, like each crack in the pavement on a walk followed each day.

It was comforting to have that hug. It's new, but certainly one I can adjust to.

When I pulled away from the bark of his clothes, the wind turned the touched areas cold. We walked home hand in hand, branch in branch.

**Hey everyone! If I'm slow on updates please bear with me. **

**I'm going through a tough time right now. (This is only one reason) My close friend I've known my whole life passed a few months ago, and all her belongings are being auctioned and they won't let my family have any of her things. I went to her house today, and it didn't feel right. All her things used to be almost full of life when she was there, but now she's gone it's almost nothing.**

**Some of you might understand, or at least trying to. Some of you might not care or find what I just said kinda stupid, but it's tough for me. Just get that.**

**I'll be updating some stories on Halloween, so please watch out for those :)**


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